


Preemption of the Demise

by caelondian



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics Advance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-31 03:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelondian/pseuds/caelondian
Summary: Marche passes Remedi and Llednar for the first time. (Dangerous stranger.)





	Preemption of the Demise

Finally glad to be away from Babus, Marche practically bolted out of the palace. He couldn't even look at Babus's scathing glare, and he was grateful Mewt's father had enough intelligence to let him go. What pleased him even more was that Cid managed to remember who he used to be in the real world...not a judgemaster, but a man at the end of his rope, crashed in a gutter, muttering apologies, and feeling lost without Mewt's mother.

Marche tightly clutched the writ from the judgemaster for the release of his clan, and he was nearly down the dusty, stone steps of the palace when he was struck by something.

He looked around, unable to find anyone close enough to have punched him, but it made him nauseated and blurred his vision. His happy mood evaporated as he slowed down and began to look behind him. He turned his head to the right and back to see a pair that made his stomach churn worse than Mist.

There was a tall woman, dressed in dark blue robes, with long brown hair. He knew this immediately as the Queen, Mewt's mother. Marche knew that she was based on Mewt's memories, and she was beautiful. Marche's own mouth opened in awe, as she smiled in almost a dark way when she saw him. She slowed down to look at Marche, but he could tell there wasn't anything good in her intentions. Something just didn't feel right. The person he was walking with, a blonde hume, also turned and slowed to look at Marche while they walked up the steps.

His cap and garb were incarnadine with white accents, and he had a feather stuck in his hat that bounced as he walked. He seemed slightly older than Marche and Mewt, but his size and face looked so babyish. Then he smiled, a wicked cut in his face that showed a malicious spark in his eye.

Marche could feel it within his gut that these two were not good, not human, not even real maybe...The boy's grim leer put a heavy weight on Marche's whole body, and Marche felt suffocatingly tight. Then the boy stopped and appeared as though he was going to approach Marche, but the Queen, who had turned away from Marche and was beginning to climb the steps, called to him.

"Come, Llednar," she said in a sweet voice with a hint of nastiness, "Perhaps some other time."

The boy, Llednar, obeyed her, and in an instant, he had turned to follow the Queen and the sickening, heavy feeling on Marche vanished, so quickly he almost thought he had imagined the sensation entirely.


End file.
